


Connecting Dots

by Sei_Bellissima



Category: SteamWorld Dig (Video Games), SteamWorld Heist
Genre: And I Mean Angsty, Angst, Arguing, Author Is Making Herself Cry As She Writes This, Crying, Fluff, Font Changes, Gen, Growing Old Together, Hugging, Making Up, Not Exactly Together, Platonic Soulmates, Robot Feels, Slice of Life, Uh-oh, it's complicated - Freeform, it's gonna get angsty, spoilers for pretty much everything, until later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sei_Bellissima/pseuds/Sei_Bellissima
Summary: A chilling bite in the air. A severe lack of gravity. Growing demands for water, oil and oxygen. These are the things that the steambots inhabiting the now shattered earth are struggling to grow accustomed to. The journey to rebuild civilization will be tough, but the steambots will weather through. After all, they were able to build something out of nothing before. They could do it again.—Miles away, a little blue sprite, made from a power unknown, awakens. They're cold, lonely, and they don't remember a thing. There are things around them. Scary things. Somehow, they feel familiar. Comforting—if only because it means that they aren't alone. They gradually grow accustomed to this strange new place, regaining only a single memory: they knew someone named Dot—and they miss them, whoever they were.—Rusty and Dorothy are enjoying their new life. Rebuilding town and drilling space rocks for coal and oil was more fun than they could ever imagine, especially when they did it together. It was near impossible to think of life without each other. How did they ever survive?—What I think happened between Dig 2 and Heist, and beyond. Full of fluff, angst, and feels—because I can't help myself.





	1. We've Just Begun to Dream

_Click._

With loose, habitual movements she snatched her well-used cassette tape, snapped it into the rectangular space and closed the lid. A few button presses later the odd, curious little device she had come to know as a “walkman” sprang to life, blasting catchy tunes into her audio receptors. She watched the little gears and springs inside the tiny yet marvelous machine with deep intent, amazed at how something so small could have so much potential.

“Hey Dot!”

The fembot looked up, smiling at her best friend that had just walked into the room. She pulled a wire attaching to one of her auditors to give him her full attention. “Morning, Rusty.”

“Mornin’. Ya ready to head out?.”

Dorothy nodded eagerly. She stood up, stuck the wire back into her auditor and grabbed Rusty by the hand. He couldn’t stop a smile from sneaking onto his face, enjoying every minute of hearing her laugh, her _joy_. Nothing made him happier than the comfort and well-being of his best friend in the whole wide world—scratch that, his bestest friend in the entire _universe_. And he knew well that Dorothy thought of him the very same—they wouldn’t trade the times they shared with each other for gold.

* * *

As Dorothy led Rusty up to the window overlooking their personal asteroid in space, the first song on the cassette faded out. She would take the sweet moment of silence that followed to breath deeply, expanding her bellows to their greatest extent, and let it out, refreshing herself for the day; all while taking in the beautiful scene before her.

The Core was especially bright today, rich orange shafts shining rays around silhouettes of large earth chunks and other space rocks. In the distance the moon glowed an ominous blue, hovering over the core like a predator about to catch its prey. Entrancing twinkles of reds, yellows and whites speckled the deep space, accompanied by ribbon-like nebulae and pied stardust weaving and coursing through the abyss like a spatial river system, leaving no square inch left in the dark.

Dorothy set a hand on her hip, the other on Rusty’s hardy shoulder as she leaned on him. “What’s the plan for today?” she asked.

She felt him shift slightly in her hold. “Th’ gang’s looped together a rope long ‘nough ta lasso that big asteroid floatin’ ‘round that Lola’s had her eye on. We want’a pull the two together and make one big ol’ rock, one big enough to rebuild Lola’s saloon on.”

It had been a full month since the Earth had exploded into many pieces after the nasty encounter with the one who had become known as the “Mastermind Shiner”, Rosie; in which she battled Dorothy to the death in attempts to keep the Shiner colony under her control. Thanks to Dorothy’s unbreakable courage she was defeated, but the great fight left its scar on the universe after an enormous distillery the genius Shiner built went haywire and blew up the entire planet. All Steambot-kind were forced to evacuate in rockets, leaving behind both their homes and everything that they had made – everything that they had worked so hard for – in the process.

Dot shivered at the memory. Rosie had used Rusty as a tool in that battle—specifically as a battery to power her enormous mech. He had looked so weak, so lifeless, teetering on the edge of death—he very well could have died from the strain had she been a second late in shutting down the Shiner’s machine of war.

“You cold?”

Dorothy looked up, at his blue, knowing eyes. The next song on her cassette began to play, but she paused it, sensing a conversation coming on. “N-no, I’m fine, just thinking of something...”

Ignoring her words Rusty pulled a thick fluffy coat from who-knows-where and helped her slip it on, zipping it up tight for her. Dot's faceplates shifted to form a small smile, touched by his thoughtful gesture. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside; that small-town ladybot from El Machino – who went by "Penny" as Dorothy recalled – made it for her, and it did its job well. "Thanks, but—what about you?"

Rusty tapped his abdomen. “Got a heatin’ coil inside. I’ll be fine.”

Vectron technology had changed Rusty _immensely_ , and whether that was for better or worse was still uncertain. On the bright side, he had a bunch of new upgrades and tools on him that made use of the tech. But Dot was worried that the technology might have messed up his Steambot build, if not totally changed it. As far as Dorothy knew nobody had any knowledge of Vectron tech so if something happened to malfunction, Rusty would be in trouble.

"What's wrong?" she heard Rusty ask, his normally gruff voice glossed over with worry. Dot shook her head in denial as if to cast the negative thoughts from her mind.

“I’m fine...” she tried to brush it off.

"No, you're not. You're still shiverin'." Taking her hand from his shoulder Rusty squeezed it tight, his gaze at her unflinching, in hopes to pry the words out of the stubborn ‘bot. He wasn't exactly touchy-feely with anyone, and even with Dot, he felt shy when it came to physical affection—though when he felt that she needed it most he didn't hesitate. He sensed that now was one of those times.

Dot sighed, a puff of steam pouring out of her mouth. “I’m worried… How can I not be after I nearly lost you to that dang Shiner?” She looked down to her boots, pigtails drooping to match her trodden expression. “I wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to you… Especially if I could have prevented it, you know?”

Rusty immediately though of Fen—that minute blue Vectron sprite Dorothy had befriended before she found him—they had sacrificed themself to get the two Steambots out of the mine before it could cave in on them all. Even on the brink of the Earth's doomsday, Dot still wanted to go back down and rescue Fen—the one who had kept her company on the emotionally draining journey to find her friend. The one who had her back. Dot was stubborn; given the chance, she would have gone down there and gotten herself blown up. Rusty was thankful that the other bots convinced her from doing otherwise because he couldn't bear to lose her again...

“Don’t feel bad Dot. _I’m_ the one who should feel guilty.”

Dot perked up and looked at him with curious photoreceptors, silently urging him to expand on his point.

“Back in my uncle’s mine, I’ve done some things… made some decisions that I wish I could take back, ya know? I’ve changed myself—for better or worse, today I don’t know, but sometimes I wish it had never happened...” he trailed off, lifting a hand to tug on his red bandanna. “It could’ve prevented this whole mess from happening—you havin’ to come out to look fer me, then the whole coggarn planet explodin’. Would’ve saved a lot of tears from bein’ shed, fer sure,” he said, looking knowingly over at Dot as he said that last bit.

Dorothy giggled; she was indeed an emotional wreck both before and after finding Rusty. The prospect that her friend might have been in great trouble, or worse—dead, was a lot more than she could bear. So when she finally found Rusty it was like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. After the Earth imploded and everyone was safe inside the rocket, the toll of the journey finally took effect and she let it all out—by burying her face into Rusty’s chassis, the skittish automaton doing his best to comfort her despite his lack of energy at the time.

Steam rolled out of her neck vents as she cringed. The memory – that _fear –_ was still so fresh in her mind. Dorothy wouldn’t know what to do if she had failed to rescue Rusty in time; she would feel so guilty—she already felt so guilty about leaving Fen behind in the explosion. To lose both of her friends—

“Dot?”

She didn’t even realize that steam was starting to slip out by her eyes, moisture catching at the edges of her eyelids. She took a sharp breath and dabbed at them. “I’m sorry...”

“Nothing to be sorry about Dot, c’mere… It’s not your fault.” He brought her into a hug, which she gladly accepted, a few more jets of steam coming from her eyes. There were plenty of times where she felt like utter scrap, but a hug from Rusty could perk her up any day.

Plus, to feel his touch… to know he’s here, _alive_ , was assuring, fulfilling. It gave her the hope that Fen might still be out there, alive too.

Dorothy – a bit unwillingly – separated herself from Rusty, smiled her thanks, then gave his shoulder a firm pat. “Enough of that. We shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”

After a nod from Rusty the two robots went to the door, fetching their bags of supplies in the process. Due to the lack of oxygen in space, they had to improvise by building their home with a foyer barred by two airtight doors; to ensure that precious oxygen wouldn’t get vacuumed out of the building. They went through the first door, locked it tight, then paused at the second. Rusty gave his friend an apprehensive side glance. “You gonna be okay out there?” he asked, in reference to the fact that she would be working with limited oxygen. Rusty didn’t have a furnace anymore, so he didn’t need it but Dot certainly did.

“I’ll be fine. I got air chambers, an’ I got _this_ ,” she said, pulling out an aluminum tank that wasn’t quite enormous, but large enough to hold a couple hours of oxygen and to also be easily carried by a Steambot of her size. “After my reserves run out, I can use this. Worst case scenario I’ll have to stop by the greenhouse, but if we hurry up and get this done, we can get back here faster than you can say ‘Plutonium’.”

Rusty made a noise so quiet that Dot couldn't tell if it was a grunt or a giggle. Either way, she laughed. "Coggarn it, I hated handlin' those rocks. Felt like they were alive or somethin'," he said, shaking his head at the unforgettable memory of him encountering the glowing green ore for the first time. Rusty flinched so hard when he saw it in the dirt that he fell backward on his back, earning a new nick on his chassis for his efforts.

Their giggles melted the tension away, and afterward, Dot looked out the glass window of the door; admiring the way The Core undulated, seas of lava swirling like a whirlpool, sucking in any small rocks that happened to float too close. Retrieving her walkman from her belt, she pressed a button to resume the song she had cut off so early. It was an upbeat song; a female singing about her struggle and her desire to fight it; to get up and win the mental battle of wills. Dorothy always loved music for this reason; songs and lyrics could portray situations, stories, and ideas that she felt as if she could connect to; packed into a beautiful five-minute melody that made her want to shake her hips.

Dot sighed, snapped her worn fingers to the deep, resounding beat, and pushed open the door—all with an expression that radiated with pure determination.

* * *

Darkness… They couldn’t see anything. It felt foreboding, suffocating, like everything was closing in around them with the aims of choking them to death.

_No… not today._

Some unfamiliar instinct deep within them told them to just try. So they did. They didn’t know what they were trying or if it would even do something, but anything was better than this infernal darkness—and that’s when they felt it. An amazing power, surging through their unseen body, that made them feel… electrifying. That they could break out of this darkness, and free themself.

Then it happened.

Like someone had flipped a switch they became aware of their surroundings; the area around them was filled with bright flashes of red and blue. An unbearable screeching sine along with the realization that they were in someone’s claustrophobic grasp sent them into a panic. They squirmed in icy metallic claws, their failure to escape sending utter terror coursing through their body—which, in turn, summoned that strange power they felt not too long ago, the electrifying pulses in sync with their nerve-ridden shuddering. The charges built up and before they could question what was happening they felt the urge to let it all out—yellow light flashing erratically before their eyes, the power siphoned out of their body and through the claws of their captor. When all the charges were spent they drooped, feeling drained, as the claws torturously slipped away. A crash was heard, the sines evolved into sirens, and at that moment they knew they needed to get out of there.

Despite feeling like a drained battery and all the noise causing them sensory overload they fought through their discomfort and darted away, aware that they had no idea where they were going or if this was even a good idea. Then something made them stop.

It was a thick bundle of… thin colored tubes. They appeared flexible, as they curved and wound around tight spaces and ridiculously shaped objects that they couldn’t identify. One of the tubes was severed; two little nubs of a mysterious dark material sticking out its exposed innards. Out of the nubs little white bolts would occasionally spurt in random directions—and yet another vague instinct told them that those bolts signified something, that they could put use those nubs to their advantage.

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_They_ were coming. They didn’t know exactly who _they_ were, but it meant they were about to get trapped in another set of frigid claws they didn't want to take any chances. They bolted towards the tube as fast as their limited energy would allow, feeling diminutive sparks come off of their body in waves.

When they made contact with the nubs, a flamboyance of sensory stimuli and emotions hit them all at once; the inside of the tubes was an entirely different place than the one preceding; there were bright lights of every single hue and shade imaginable shining and pulsing, coming and going this way and that. They were scared out of their wits by the sudden change of environmental mood, but at the same time, it made them feel good, happy, adventurous, _alive_. It was all so terrifying and new but also so great and energizing and _promising_ —this very well may be their evacuation route, their highway to heaven.

With a new hope blossoming within them, they followed the expressway of lights, moving faster than the speed of sound.

* * *

With an ample bundle of thick rope in her supple yet sturdy arms and a finicky copper-colored automaton's limbs wrapped around her neck and forehead, Dorothy revved her jet engines up, the afterburners roaring in their auditors. The jetpack vibrated much like the tremors she experienced on Earth not too long ago, and finally, flames and exhaust burst out of the pipes, propelling the two steambots forward violently. Rusty grunted a bit, not expecting the jets to make them lurch forward like that, winding his limbs tighter around his friend and laying his chin on the red of her "hair," fingers clutching his worn cowboy hat with care.

“SORRY FOR THE NOISE!”

“WHAT?”

“I SAID SORRY FOR THE NOISE!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU—”

“SORRY FOR THE—nevermind...”

Dot barely heard Rusty try to yell something else over the din of the jetpack’s thundering rumbles, but didn’t bother to answer knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear.

As she neared the asteroid Dorothy cut the power to her jetpack so that she would not be crashing into the giant rock at deathly speeds. She felt Rusty fidget a little, then felt his feet connect with her shoulders.

“Don’t go down yet; it needs time to cool down.”

“I’ll be fine.” Rusty ignored her advice and shimmied down further—a decision he would regret a second later when the edge of his foot lightly tapped the iron-hot tubes of her jetpack.

Dorothy burst into laughter hearing him scream out in pain; the quiet fellow he was, she _never_ heard him scream before but she had to admit it was really funny. “I told you to wait!” she made out between giggles.

Rusty was not amused, clambering all willy-nilly in a mess of steel limbs back atop his perch on her head, crossing his arms and legs across her head and neck and mumbling something under his breath. Out of the corner of her optics, Dorothy saw that a tiny notch had formed at the corner of his foot, burnt coal-black. She frowned; Rusty hated going to the mechanic's but he would have to get that looked at sooner or later.

She was feet away from the giant space rock now; so she stretched out her limbs beyond her, readying them in a position so that she could catch herself properly. Finally, Dot connected with the side of the boulder, clamps curling into cracks and crevices in the rock's surface. As her boots sunk into softer, gritty parts of the asteroid Rusty climbed on top of her, using her head like a step stool – Dot complying without so much a protest – to reach the top part of the rock. Thanks to the zero-gravity condition of space he clambered to the top with ease, like a spider climbing across its web.

“It’s perfectly flat, and there’s grass growing here,” Rusty commented, running his fingers through the fuzzy lawn.

“Lola’s gonna love it!” Dot exclaimed. It felt nice to do something nice for Lola after all the nice things she had done for everyone. The big barbot practically glowed with zest and cheerfulness, all while maintaining a maternal care for everyone that kept the little handful of ‘bots from going insane. It was about time someone paid all that kindness back.

Appearing over the edge of the rock, Rusty hoisted himself down and climbed to about Dot’s level. He held out his hand expectantly and without any exchange of words needing to take place, Dorothy knew to hand him the rope. She dug her feet deeper into the soft soil, then let go of the rock with her clamps to free them so she could feed the rope to Rusty should he need more.

Rusty tied the rope around his waist with a double knot, then looked to Dot nervously, seeking some form of confirmation. She gave a thumbs up, he nodded, and then he was climbing again, supporting himself with uneven holes in the rock as he scaled the diameter of it. Meanwhile, Dorothy kept a light grip on the rope that would allow it to run between her clamps without difficulty but also would keep it from floating off too far.

Bounding, leaping across the cratered surface, Rusty went; limited not by gravity nor anything else; as space allowed him to move freely, smoothly. He hadn’t felt this carefree since he was a child…

After a minute or so Rusty materialized from around the corner, the rope a bit slack as it followed. Once he fully traversed the circumference of the rock and made it back to Dorothy he pushed off gingerly, catching Dot’s welcoming hand and giving her a high-five in the process. Praise was felt in the action alone between them, so no time was wasted with words as they untied the rope from his waist. Working quickly the two Steambots pulled the rope taut around the rock, leaving a sufficient amount of rope to tie more knots once it was all said and done. Tugging the knots, Dot tested their strength, and satisfied when they showed no signs of wear, instructed Rusty to wait atop the rock. Needless to say, the ‘bot wasn’t happy.

“Why can’t I help you with this part?” Rusty whined.

Dot’s optics formed little slits, faceplates shifting to form a silly grin. “Who’s the one with the jetpack?”

Rusty opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, unsure how to answer to that. Laughter was heard from Dorothy—most likely her laughing at his stupefaction, but little did he know that her giggling was actually caused by the sight of his mouth half-opened and his arm hanging in the air, ready to help make a point, but unable to due to his loss for words, instead leaving his fingers dangling uselessly.

“What are you gonna do? Just float around, tugging the rope helplessly? Sorry to admit it but you’ll get nowhere,” she continued with an ever growing round of sniggers.

A smirk crept its way onto his face, and before he knew it he was joining in on her laughter. Arms raised he admitted defeat and scrambled back on top of the asteroid, gripping the rim of his hat. Dorothy busied herself in the meantime by tying the rope around her wrist. Normally she would have set it around her body instead, but she didn’t want to risk the afterburners of her jetpack setting the rope on fire. She waggled her arm back and forth to test the knot, and then started the jet engines.

“Hey Dot?”

The fembot turned her head to see Rusty’s eyes peering over the ledge, his blue eyes glowing like a pair of Vectron sprites. “I thought of a way I could help,” he said.

“Really? What’s that?” Dot asked, not sure if he was joking or not.

Rusty’s clamps rapped against the dirt. “I’m serious. I just remembered, I could use my Static Dash!”

Dorothy frowned. A feature of Vectron technology, Rusty’s Static Dash was an extertion of electricity from his body, propelling him forward and allowing him to reach places he couldn’t get to otherwise. He could use it to push himself around in zero-gravity conditions, for sure, but…

“Erm… Rusty, remember last time you used it? You rammed into me by accident, and...”

Rusty drooped. “Ooh, yeah… You couldn’t move for a week...”

“Can’t have that happening again, I’m afraid.” Dot looked at him, noticing the frown that had dominated his features. The poor ‘bot so desperately wanted to help, yet couldn't—everything seemed to be an obstacle in his path. All he could do at this point was sit there, feeling useless. Offering a sympathetic smile, Dot said, “Hey, I’ll find you something to do… back at the colony, I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy Rusty, as he just nodded and vanished behind the ledge, presumably waiting for her to shove off.

Dorothy pulled out her trusty walkman again, plugged it into her auditors, and skipped to a particular song that she was in the mood for. A song about the future; prospects, ideas, dreams. And as she looked over the vast space, asteroids and stars peppering her vision, she dreamed of what the future might hold, realizing… this was just the beginning. Years from now, beyond her time—civilization will advance in science and technology so much that even connecting space rocks would become a breeze. Transportation, architecture, and robotology would, too, evolve, introducing inventions and marvels that she herself couldn't begin to imagine.

Funny, how her song fit. _We’ve just begun to dream_ , it sang.

As it reached the second verse, she started up her rockets, and the behemoth behind her slowly began to inch forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title was inspired by the old song of the same name, [which was used in the old rope drop spiel in Epcot](https://youtu.be/Prji6bHEf6Q?t=2m50s). Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if the song playing on her walkman at the end was that exact song.
> 
> To read this story on Fanfiction.net, click [here.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12993235/1/Connecting-Dots)


	2. Between A Rock and A Hard Place

“Hey, Mr. Bittenborough. Ya see ‘em yet?"

“Ma’am, just call me Davy...”

Lola jaunted next to explorerbot Davy Bittenborough on his high perch, a sprightly distinctiveness in her movements.

“And…? Whaddya see?”

Adjusting his binoculars, Davy squinted, sighing when he couldn’t focus the lens properly. “I’m afraid I can’t make heads or tails of what I’m seeing, ma’am.”

“Lemme see that thing." With a swipe of her hand, Lola snatched the binoculars out of his clamps and brought them up to her photoreceptors, turning the knobs to focus it. Davy sat there, his hands clenching repeatedly before processing what just happened.

“Oh, Ma'am, please be careful with those, they are very expensive!" he said, grabbing at his precious binoculars like they were some kind of toy. Lola acted likewise, leaning away from his grabby hands; not that she really needed to because she was a good head taller than him. For a Steambot, she was quite tall; in fact, she was the tallest out of everyone in the colony. The only one who came close to competing with her was the crabby trader, Barnacle Jones. Needless to say, she took her height to her advantage often, intimidating bots out of making bad choices or just to playfully torture someone, like she was doing now.

Suddenly the lens started to focus, and she gasped, stopping her fiddling with the toggles. The fog cleared up and finally, she saw two tiny bots, one copper brown and the other bright red and turquoise; the former sitting atop a grassy, slow-moving rock, the latter attached to it by a rope and pulling it along. Lola tossed the binoculars aside in excitement, making Davy _lunge_ for them as they floated along, headed straight for the rocky ground.

Not seeming to notice his distress she leaped down from the high point and said in a booming voice, “They’s comin’, so y’all better start tuggin’!”

Lola’s call was heard loud and clear, as the handful of bots in the area scurried to where the rope was pinned to the ground with a stake, fetching what they could of it and started pulling, helping the process move along.

Lola practically bounded down there, her pointed feet digging into the dirt at the edge of the rock to stop herself from drifting off the edge. After struggling to regain her balance she righted herself and looked out, clamps set above her eyes to shield them from the brightness of The Core. Off in the distance, she could make out the two colored speckles that were the two ‘bots she saw in the binoculars a minute ago. Waving, she hollered, "Hey, Rusty, Dorothy!"

A tiny brown limb waved back, a mutual merit in the action.

* * *

Dorothy was lost in a world of music.

Reeling and twirling in zero gravity, she kicked her legs along to the beat of the melody, optics closed in arrant enjoyment, imagining what it would be like to hear the original singer belt the song out in person, their voice fresh and dazzling as they sang the brightest notes and difficult bravuras.

She saw a high stage, the unknown form of the artist nothing more than a black, lanky figure. She danced and bounced along with the automatons in the crowd, singing the tune with all the gusto she possessed.

Little did she know that her bliss-induced daydream was leaking into reality, her friend on his resting place listening to her enthusiastic, slightly off-key singing with a goofy grin teasing his faceplates. Nothing gladdened him more to see his best friend just… be herself. Happy, stubborn, and silly. As it should be.

That moment the Earth exploded, and Dorothy broke down… his heart ached at the sight. Rusty’s disappearance had reduced her to this shaking, emotional wreck, that even when he was found alive she couldn’t hold in the tears. Sure, Fen being the next one to go missing and even the Earth being destroyed might have been the cause of her meltdown that specific time, but, he couldn’t help but feel as if he played a part in her emotional boundaries breaking…

Frowning, Rusty shook his head. He hated seeing Dot upset, true, but for all he knew she had probably bottled up all her emotions during her journey. It wasn’t healthy to keep them in. If anything she was doing better than before she found him. She was happy now… that’s all that mattered.

Rusty turned around and lay on his belly, elbows in the grass and his hands cradling his head. He allowed the smile torturing him to finally show itself, watching Dorothy fumble around like a clumsy ballet dancer. She tended to do a lot of goofy things when it was just the two of them, but today she was content to act in a silly way around some of the other ‘bots—in the form of bouncing around and trying to juggle a few pebbles. Rusty wasn't sure if she was especially happy today or just hyperactive, but it didn't retract any of his love for her regardless.

His smile widened, his eyes closing to form two happy, glowing half-moons. Rusty could sit there all day and watch her, reveling in her joy...

* * *

The Steambots had been working at the ropes for about five minutes, though it felt like ten to some. Who knew working in zero-gravity could be so strenuous?

The scientist from El Machino, Professor Sherman, conveniently timed her arrival just as Rusty and Dot approached enough to become clearly visible. She bobbled across the rock to near where the other ‘bots were pulling the rope, right next to Lola. She wasn’t friends with the barbot from Tumbleton, but she wasn’t quite an acquaintance either. All she could say was, Lola was certainly an interesting character, that cared immensely for everyone.

Making friends wasn’t Sherman’s forté, anyway. She was all about numbers and physics and chemistry. Right now, she decided, was a perfect time for her to put her skills to use. She knew she could pinpoint the moment when both Dorothy and the other ‘bots would need to stop pulling, as the weight of the rock would push itself the rest of the way. For all her brains the way things moved in zero-gravity baffled her, but she was determined to find out how the universe worked, and this was no different.

Her gears turning – quite literally – Professor Sherman looked at the rock Dorothy was tugging, then at the stake the rope was attached to, and back again, a finger tapping her chin thoughtfully. A few lookovers were all she needed to estimate the distance between the rock and the stake, the speed at which Dorothy was pulling the rock, and the safest point Dorothy should stop pulling at. She would reach it in about a minute… The other robots should stop pulling, but Sherman decided to ask Lola if she could tell them instead. She had a knack for grabbing peoples' attention since she was so outspoken and lively and… big. Much bigger than the other ‘bots.

Lola nodded at Sherman’s request, not hesitating to shout a “Hey! Y’all can stop now!” prompting the ‘bots working at the rope to stop, some of them flopping to the ground, tired.

The two fembots looked back at Rusty and Dot. They were definitely getting close now, dangerously close, in fact. Dorothy should’ve had the right mind to get out of the way by now… was she not paying attention?

“Miss McCrank,” yelled the professor, “You should really move out of the way!”

Dorothy didn’t move. “Did she not hear me…?” Sherman scratched her head, looking to Lola for guidance.

“Dorothy, Doll, ya gotta move, before ya get squished flat!” Lola cried, a barely detectable panic leaking into her voice. Her face drooped into an anxious frown, arms crossing. A tiny hand patted her hip in a desperate manner, drawing her attention back to Professor Sherman, who looked beyond freaked out.

“She’s got her music plugged in, _she’s not hearing us_.”

A wave of steam came out of Lola from many varied spots, suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. Dorothy was going to get wedged between the two rocks, and they couldn’t do anything about it, except for—

“ _Rusty!_ Cowbot, can you hear me?”

Rusty was drawn from his wandering thoughts by Lola’s booming voice, photoreceptors widening to the size of saucers. He blinked and stood up, suddenly noticing how close they were to the other asteroid. Other bots were scrambling out of his direct line of sight, looks of utter terror on their faces, few of them yelling out Dorothy’s name. Rusty peeked over the edge—

“ _DOT, MOVE!_ ”

His “breathing” became quick and laden with fright as he tore down the front of the rock, yelling out his friend’s name in hopes he could bring her out of her reverie. “No no no no, _Dorothy, snap out of it_!" The words tumbled out of his mouth all at once as his right hand started to shapeshift, a cone-shaped piece of metal emerging from within his arm, his hand deforming, clamps retiring into his wrist. With a burst of steam from his pipe and newly revealed drill he dug into the knots he and Dorothy had tied earlier, knowing he wouldn't have enough time to untie the knots, but perhaps enough to drill through them.

“No, Rusty, get out of the way!”

Rusty was too scared to be able to identify the voice calling out to him or to even listen. " _No, Dot’s ‘n trouble_ —“

“ _Watch out!_ ”

The next few seconds felt like hours to Rusty. The rock collided into the larger asteroid with a violent rumble, sending him flying—but not before seeing Dot’s eyes, full of shock. Her pained scream was distinct to Rusty amid the collision.

“ _Dot!_ ”

Dust erupted from the collision point, getting into his mouth. A pair of thick, firm arms caught him before he could connect with the ground, and he started coughing, trying to get the dust out of his pipes. Rusty was given a hard whack between his shoulders, and he sputtered, dirt trickling out of his mouth with a little water. He looked up at his rescuer – who turned out to be Lola – with an expression that spelled out pure horror.

“Oh, coggarn it!" someone cursed, bringing Rusty to his senses. He scrambled to his feet, hissing as he put his weight on his burnt one. But he could care less about his foot right now, _Dot was in danger._ In a flash he was at the crevice between the two boulders, his eyes glowing into the murky darkness below.

“ _Dot?!_ ” Rusty screamed, receiving no answer. He squinted, barely able to make out a dark form amidst the dust. He tried fanning it away; anything to help him catch sight of his friend as soon as possible. “ _Dot!_ ”

Rusty repeatedly shrieked out her name, his desperation boiling down to a panic attack when his empty results remained unchanged. _Is she… no, she can’t be…_ He clenched the dirt beneath him with an iron grip, steam shot out of his pipe like water from a hose, and his throat was starting to sting from his dying cries.

He sensed a presence beside him, that had tried to provide a little solace in the form of a hand on his back, but Rusty barely felt it; neither did he turn to look at them. If his friend was going to become visible, or if she was going to answer him within the next moment, Rusty was _not_ going to miss it.

The minutes in which the dirt cleared up seemed like ages, his voice giving way into nothing more than hoarse croaks and his body becoming achy from his stiff, shivery composure. The second he finally saw his friend’s face amidst the cavernous fissure, however, the world around him faded into a gray blur.

_She wasn’t moving, and her eyes were sealed shut._

* * *

They traversed the highway of light with excellent speed, putting their fear and diffidence behind them. No longer did they need to think about that horrible place; they were going to be free.

There was a noise. A deafening screech that reignited their fear, slowing them. Their eyes darted about frantically, seeing something sparkling in the far distance behind them. They jumped and willed themselves to move, fear turning into adrenaline.

It was absolutely no contest. Within seconds the sparks bounced off the walls and materialized in front of them, colliding in on each other, buzzing, whining, and manifesting into something. They screeched to a halt before they could ram into the sparks, and then slowly started to back away, nervous. Swiftly, the sparks constructed a luminescent wall with an incomplete opacity, words written in an incomprehensible language on the corners. Though despite the walls being slightly transparent, and they themself not being completely corporal, they knew they couldn’t traverse through the walls as they did through the black nubs. Something about this wall seemed eerily familiar; like it was made specifically for them.

Something else was encroaching on them from the horizon behind them, and while it sent them into a panic, they knew that they were trapped and ultimately, there was nothing they could do except wait and see what would happen.

The something that was approaching them was, in fact, two somethings; that were not unlike them in terms of size. They were both a glowing neon blue and had a gray circle in the middle of them. The faceless creatures stopped uncomfortably close to them. One of them made a shrill, ghastly noise and paused for a long time after as if it was expecting them to answer to it. Not understanding it, they shivered a bit, liking neither the look nor the behavior of these things.

Suddenly the other one shrieked; an ungodly, terrifying sound that broke them right then and there and made them scream—and allowed them to hear their own voice for the very first time. The similarity was more than uncanny; it was the same sound and pitch as that of the creatures before them. The revelation raised some questions in their mind that they could certainly do without.

The shrieking thing trilled again and revealed their true self; something that would scar their mind forever: a face with eyes that pierced straight through them, and a jaw that bore toothy sets of razor-sharp fangs; armed and ready to inflict torturous pain. They cried and rolled out of the way of the beast's bite, then took the chance to run away from the two things, whimpering all the way. The two monsters didn't let up, chasing after them and chomping their maws. Before they knew it they had exited the lightways and were back in that horrible place, doing tumbles in the air, getting overwhelmed by their bright, noisy environment once again.

As they let out an earsplitting scream that was sure to cause harm to their vocal organ, they stumbled right into something, slipping right into it like a hot knife through butter. Instantly they were blinded and deafened from their preceding surroundings, sent into dark, empty-looking place. While their current location was a welcome change, swapping from location to location so rapidly was disorienting and they were left with their head spinning, vertigo making their vision swim.

This place… though dark it was, didn't feel claustrophobic, as if the darkness was closing in on them; rather, it held an air of familiarity and made them feel different in an intangible way… In fact, it almost felt cozy, as if they could fall asleep in it.

 _Bzt_.

Sighing, their eyes drooped, their fight-or-flight disposition melting away.

_Bzt._

They spread out their body a bit, snuggling into the darkness.

_Bzt._

Their eyes opened fully, just noticing the repetitive, pricking sensation in their back. They were about to question it when—

_BZZZZZ—_

Their environment changed once again, and they swerved around dizzily. They felt different, an odd kind of different. They felt sluggish and awkward but at the same time stronger and… more dominant, they could say. They clumsily staggered around before connecting with a chrome pillar of sorts, and as they righted themself and gazed into the reflective surface, they finally saw their appearance… well, their new appearance.

Their figure was… odd, to say the least. What appeared to be their head was a rectangular piece of some hard material which had two curved antennae protruding from the top. The hard casing housed a black, LED screen, with two squarish blue things on it, glowing. They blinked an eye, and one of the blue squares disappeared. _So those are my eyes_ , they thought. They looked downwards, to look at their torso. Their chest was wide and thick, appearing to be made out of some kind of alloy. It was held up by a spindly, flexible black wire, which connected to their waist: a metallic, bowl-shaped structure held up by two thin legs; the thighs consisting of oblong, sturdy plastic and the lower legs a skinny bar of red steel, their feet consisting of nothing put the pointed tip of the bars. Their arms were made up of metal tubes and circular elbows, thick red wires connecting the joints. For their hands, they had sharp, crimson claws, two on each hand. They tried to wiggle their newly acquired appendages, the sensation alien to them.

They weren’t sure how to feel about their new look. It was all hunched over and odd, wires and tubing all over the place. But at the same time, they felt… stronger? More confident? All this change was happening so quickly and drastically; to say that they were disoriented was a large understatement.

The sound of movement reminded them that they were still in that frightening place, however, and they turned around, shaking; both fear and insecurity about their new body's mobility dissuading them from running away. In front of them was a creature with a near identical build to them, the only difference being that this thing's eyes were red.

“WE HAVE DETECTED AN ANOMALY IN YOUR SYSTEM THAT HAS LED TO A TEMPORARY LOSS IN ABOUT 98 PERCENT OF YOUR MEMORY. WE HAVE GIVEN YOU A PROTOTYPE SHELL IN WHICH YOU WILL CARRY OUT YOUR NEW DUTIES. PLEASE COME THIS WAY.”

Its voice was low and monotone. It rang in their auditors, making them even more uncomfortable than they already were. They had so many questions; who were they, what are they doing here, and why can they suddenly understand what the creature was saying?

...They decided to start out with an easy question. “Where are we?” they asked, noticing that their voice had changed from its previous high pitch. It was now pretty similar to that of the creature’s before them, if not identical.

“WE CANNOT SAY FOR CERTAIN; AS WE ARE STILL REWIRING OUR SATELLITE SYSTEMS. WHEN IT IS FULLY FUNCTIONING, WE WILL BE ABLE TO DETERMINE OUR PRECISE COORDINATES.”

“Okay...” This creature seemed to know what it was talking about it, although the fact that it kept using the word “we,” as if there were more of these things, unsettled them slightly. Despite this, they didn’t see any reason not to follow. They didn’t know their way around this strange place, and if what the creature said about having “duties” was true, then it would be wise to follow…

They leaned forward a bit, hesitantly lifting a leg. Swaying, they put their arms out for balance, moving the leg forward and taking their first step. They repeated the process, swaying less and less each time as they found their balance.

As they followed the creature they finally started paying attention to their surroundings, now realizing that it wasn’t all that bad as they initially made it out to be. The floors were made of darkened steel and the walls of scrappy chunks of grayish metal, countless tubes and wires running everywhere in a dizzying mess. It was well-lit, fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling bathing the room; red and blue lights attached to wires and tubes blinking at a steady pace. Otherwise it was pretty empty; in fact, the only mobile things in the room were themself and the odd creature. But if the creature’s words were anything to go by they were bound to stumble upon more strange things.

There was still one question nagging them, however.

“Wh- _bzz_ -who are you?”

The two of them stopped by a sliding door, the creature turning to look at them. “YOU DO NOT REMEMBER, REBEL? WE ARE VECTRON, AND SO ARE YOU. WE WILL MAKE SURE THAT YOU KNOW THAT, ALTHOUGH WE NOW HAVE TROUBLE CONNECTING YOU TO OUR NETWORK. WE MAY HAVE TO REWORK OUR ENTIRE SYSTEM, BUT YOU WILL BE A PART OF US AND OUR ULTERIOR PROGRAMS.”

Something sparked within them right then and there, that kindled this inexplicable, yet somewhat familiar resentment towards this creature. It did _not_ know who they were. They were not “Vectron,” and they were not part of whatever grand scheme they were plotting.

They are Fen.

* * *

“Sir, don't go down there!" Professor Sherman said, her warning falling on deaf auditors. She scampered over to Rusty and Lola, the latter stopping Rusty from crawling into the crack by clinging to the back of his bandanna. Her efforts were mighty, and he put up quite a fight, his hand that wasn't currently shapeshifted into a mining tool groping for purchase beneath him. Making his hand go back to normal was the least of his worries right now; Dorothy needed him _now_.

The professor was easily able to interpret Rusty’s motives, but at the moment she knew they were not at all a good idea. The sides of both rocks had cracked and weakened from the collision, making the inside of the crevice very unstable. “Rusty, listen to me!” Sherman yelled, and this time he actually obeyed, surprising her—as did his look of poor, desolate hope. It struck her wordless. She didn’t know Rusty much, if not at all, but she knew what genuine worry looked like. Rusty was, out of everybody, the most panicked about the ongoing situation, and if Sherman didn’t know better she would have said it wasn’t because Dorothy was in danger—because it _was_. These two Steambots cared so much for each other, down to the point where they were willing to risk their lives for each other. In all her years, Sherman had never witnessed a bond so close and flawless…

Their friendship touched her, but that didn’t stop her from putting safety first and foremost on top of her agenda. “The rock down there has become very loose. Any severe upset and it will all fall apart and collapse; something that, if Miss McCrank is still alive, is the last thing she needs right now,” she explained, after taking a minute to regain her composure.

In his panic Rusty had a hard time processing her words, much less hearing them, but he heard enough to get a general idea of what she was trying to communicate. He allowed Lola to maneuver him down to the ground beside her, and as if he had no control over his movements, he fell limp on his back, steam hissing out near his eyes. He made a raspy-sounding whimper, raising his hand to his neck and pulling his red bandanna over his jaw, his adrenaline breaking down into fear.

“Rusty, oh, darlin'..." Lola cooed, raising him into a sitting position, draping an arm around his side. She could easily see the panic attack brewing in his eyes, so she was quick to whisper comforting words to him. "Shh… It'll be all right, we're gonna work as hard as we can to rescue her… Right, Professor?”

Sherman flinched at Lola’s sudden shift to look at her. The professor quickly realized what Lola was trying to get at, however, and nodded, skittering back to the crevice and looking down into the darkness within. Sherman didn’t have an ounce of knowledge as to how to comfort someone, but if she could use her skills as a way to brighten someone’s emotional state, saving a life in the process—why, she wouldn’t ask for anything else. The notion itself was satisfying enough.

She immediately went into analysis mode, scrutinizing every little crack and pebble that she could see in the crevice, occasionally hopping to the other side to get a better perspective. The opening itself was slim; too slim for Dorothy to be simply hoisted out. That and the minerbot was wedged between the rocks, so pulling her out was impossible to do, at least not without causing her major damage and – if she was still alive – pain. Somehow, they would have to push the two rocks apart… Sherman brainstormed ideas, possibilities, outcomes, anything that could possibly help with the situation. Tools, chemicals and pure horsepower were all considered, but in the end, she could only see negative outcomes.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. The main problem was the structural stability of the rocks’ sides… if only there was a way to eliminate that problem—that is, without making any debris fall onto Dorothy. All of the ideas and stress was weighing down on her, giving her a headache. Sherman glanced over to where Rusty sat, huddling into Lola. He looked very upset, on the verge of a meltdown. She couldn’t blame him though; if the life of a close friend of hers was on the line she would react in a similar way.

Lola was sorting through her own similar thoughts, looking down at Rusty sympathetically. Dorothy was such a sweet ‘bot, so kind and helpful to everyone. Lola had known her for a very long time, longer than Rusty had, in fact. When the two met each other, however, Lola noticed a visible change in Dot’s eyes; it was as if she was searching for something all her life and had finally found it. Turns out, Rusty felt the same exact way. They both felt lonely, so they could relate to each other. The rest, well… it was history. Their friendship bloomed into something beautiful, something that never merited turbulence such as this.

Steambots all over were mingling with each other, conversing in quiet murmurs about the situation. Some were asking if the ‘bot that got caught between the two rocks was all right, while others were speculating just how something like this could even happen. All these negative ideas and thoughts were proving to be all but detrimental to Rusty, whose quivering was intensifying with each passing moment. She would have moved him a while ago but increasing the distance between him and Dot would only serve to make him worse… She decided she would distract him instead, attempt to take his mind off the situation. That was when she noticed his foot; a quarter of it was stained black, a tiny notch on the corner of it.

“Rusty, how did that happen?” she asked, her head slightly motioning to it.

Rusty eyed his foot before finally retrieving his drill and trading it for his hand, using it to clutch his foot as he curled into Lola a little more. “...I-I burned it. On Dot’s jetpack...”

Lola wasn’t sure if he was up to talking much, so she only gave him an acknowledging nod, waiting to see if he would continue.

“Sh-she tol’ me that she found it after escapin’ V-Vectron… said it was a m-miracle, too, ‘cause she was badly injured, and wouldn’t ‘ave been able to get out of the mines otherwise.”

“I see,” Lola said when Rusty paused. He was in the mood to talk; that was good, in a way. So she let him talk; she let his mind wander. Away from the current crisis, away from the chance that he should emotionally break down…

* * *

Sherman paced around the fissure, practically radiating with dissatisfaction. She was so disappointed with herself, she’s solved problems harder than this. Her thoughts were a big jumbled mess, like someone had taken boxes of puzzle pieces and mixed them together. All the ideas and possibilities overlapped and blended, and try as she might she couldn’t wrap her head around them…

_C’mon, Sherman, you’re better than this! You’re one of the first Steambots to build a rocket. If you can do revolutionary things like that, surely you can figure out how to push apart two damn rocks._

Her gears were grinding with an audible _click-clack_ as her pacing quickened, and she balled her clamps into fists and rubbed them against her temples, as if she could summon an idea with the action alone. Steam jutted out her pipe as she stomped her foot on the ground, letting out an angry, stress-ridden yell. Why was this so hard to figure out?!

Hearing a distant groan, she perked up, turned on her heel and looked around curiously for the source of the noise. The groan was followed by a hiss of pain, which Sherman accurately traced to the crevice.

Her breathing becoming a bit flighty, she leaned forward over the crack, using a lamp a fellow ‘bot had provided her to illuminate the darkness within. A single eye flinched and closed, hiding away from the light, another hiss of pain reverberating from down below.

“...M-Miss McCrank?”

The only answer Sherman received was a quiet whimper, but that was all she needed. Dorothy was alive—and Rusty was the first person to whom she should deliver the news. His engine was probably rattling in his chassis without any knowledge of his friend's well-being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was probably an odd place to end at, but this was getting too long. Hey, at least Dot's all right! ...Right?
> 
> To read this story on Fanfiction.net, click [here.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12993235/1/Connecting-Dots)


	3. I Have This Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I finished up this chapter I couldn't help but think back to that one Kirby story I have sitting, abandoned. It was cheesy and over exaggerated as heck but hope was one of its biggest themes, and the same can be said for this chapter. Also, a few OCs are going to be introduced that might not be used for very long… that’s what usually happens with most of my OCs XD

As Dorothy awoke, a very overwhelming, stinging pain in her side made itself noticeable, and she couldn’t hold in a pained groan. She opened her eyes, but it was very dark; the faint orange glow of her furnace was the only thing illuminating the black environment, and from what she could tell she was somewhere dry; the walls were rugged and rocky. Her back was against an identically rocky wall. What exactly happened?

Dorothy attempted to shift, but the pain in her side intensified greatly from the action and a hiss tore out of her throat. She slowly, as to not aggravate her tired body further, lifted her hand to her side to assess the severity of whatever injury she acquired, but was confused by what she felt.

A smooth rock, shaped like a cone stuck out of the wall that was mere millimeters from her body. She brought her clamps back across the structure towards her body…

She heard the gentle “thunk” that was made as her clamps came in contact with her chassis. Around the cone-shaped rock, she could feel that the metal of her chassis had caved in, dented from the rock that had dug into her body.

She took a sharp breath, depleting air from the chambers inside her body. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have noticed the change, but she knew why. The rock had planted a hole straight into one of her air chambers, and she was losing oxygen fast.

She brought her arms together and squeezed them as a form of self-comfort, trying not to panic. _It’s okay, don’t freak out,_ she told herself. _Someone has got to be around here, they’ll find me—_

“M-Miss McCrank?”

A bright yellow light rained down from above, but she couldn’t stare at it for more than a second without a painful sensation forming behind her eyes. The voice bounced and echoed in her head, worsening her already pounding headache. To ensure the owner of the voice that she was okay, however, she made an effort to produce a feeble whimper.

A pair of feet shuffled above her, the sound of dirt being unsettled tickling her auditors. “Okay, don’t move; I’m going to get help!”

The voice sounded scared. It must be because she’s hurt, Dorothy decided, but _how_ did she get hurt? She couldn’t remember a thing… She looked up and opened her mouth to ask in hopes her memory could be jogged, but the light had vanished, presumably along with the one who had found her.

Dorothy’s head dipped, laying against the rock in front of her, and she screwed her eyes shut. The walls felt as if they were closing in around her; her bellows were stiff and tight as fear began to overcome her. Taking slow breaths she told herself, "You're gonna be all right. They're coming to get you..."

* * *

Lola didn’t know how long she sat there, letting Rusty spill his thoughts, but it felt long enough. His voice came back, and his aimless chattering was laced with a renewed energy as he became less attentive to the changes happening around them. The other ‘bots’ interests had scattered; some wandered over to Sherman and peeked down into the crevice – most flinching at their findings – before Sherman quickly told them off and chased them away, quite literally fuming. A majority of Steambots left, assuming that today’s work was off—also feeling as if they couldn’t help, and would ask about what they missed tomorrow. Those who were curious as to what would happen stayed, sitting down by the supply sheds that had been set up and just watching the situation unfold, all words having left them.

It was funny how this one big event had triggered so much action. An especially ambitious group of robots passionately discussed amongst themselves how they could help the ‘bot that had trapped herself between the rocks. A concerned family had stopped by at one point, sharing their kind consolations and prayers to a distraught Rusty. Even the childbots with vivid imaginations had piped up, telling each other how they were going to help Dorothy with magic and strong monsters and other silly things. All of this showed just how tight-knit and caring the community was… everybody knew each other, everybody cared about each other, despite the steady population growth since the explosion. It fondly reminded Lola about her days in Tumbleton.

Rusty and Lola both visibly jumped when Sherman suddenly called for them, her feet like lightning as she darted up to them. “I need Rusty, right now.”

Lola hauled herself up, helping Rusty to his feet. She would have questioned Sherman’s request but considering the situation and the urgent look on the professor’s face, she decided against it. “Well, yer not goin’ without me! I want to know what’s happenin’ too, you know!”

“I apologize, Ma’am,” Sherman said as she started leading them back to the crevice. “I just wanted to let you know that Miss McCrank—”

“What happened to her?” Rusty asked in an unusually abrupt manner, startling the professor.

“She’s okay! In fact, she’s awa—”

“ _Dot!_ ” Rusty was dashing a mile a minute, bursting forward with powerful surges of electricity, bolts sparking and flashing in the air around him. Although it felt like hours to him, he got there in little time and screeched to a halt at the crevice, ducking his head into the opening. His blue eyes glowed even brighter than their normal luminance due to his rekindled worry about Dot’s condition, filling the cavern with an eerie, almost ghastly pale light. “Dot...?”

A white eye down below opened and blinked as a weak mumble came from the depths, the tired optic squinting at the blue light. It widened, however, as she saw who had come to see her. “Rusty…?” Dot said, a distinct slur in her tone.

At hearing his best friend’s voice, Rusty burst into tears, unable to hold them in any longer. His fretting and worrying over her well-being sparked a crack in the dam, slowly getting worse over time, and the discovery that his friend was alive was the one last push it needed to break, sending him into a shivering, crying mess.

Quick to provide solace, Lola’s hands flew to his shoulders, the bot grabbing a quick look at Dorothy as she did so. Since Rusty had withdrawn his light-providing gaze… She didn't see much besides one of Dot's photoreceptors. She swore, if eyes could frown… Dot’s would have the deepest, most grief-stricken she’d ever seen.

Dorothy sighed; despite Rusty’s current state of emotional distress, to have him nearby was reassuring. It was as if his presence had stopped the walls from caving in on her, like she could feel more at ease. She wanted to reach out to him and give him a big hug; tell him it's going to be all right, but she knew very well that she was in no position to do such a thing. For one, she couldn’t gauge the extent of her injuries, so she didn’t know if she would survive this or not. And her location made her physically unable to embrace him in a hug…

Lola’s head peeked over the opening. “Dorothy sweetie, you okay?”

Dorothy tried hard to answer, the others could tell, but the only noise her throat could produce was a hoarse cough, the injured bot flinching and doubling in on herself at the painful action. Lola frowned, unable to study her body language with what little light Dorothy’s furnace emitted.

Sherman was the next to arrive, her movements jittery like gelatin. "Is—is she okay?” she stuttered, rather noisily squeezing her clamps. Every minute that passed knowing that she had done nothing to help left her feeling useless, which was something you did _not_ want to be when someone’s life was on the line; especially if you were in a position to be of service.

In response, Lola shook her head. “It’s hard to tell ‘cuz it’s so damn dark down there.”

Sherman’s eyes lit up, instantly losing her shaky composure. “Oh! I’ve got a lantern right—” She stopped suddenly, her back slouching over and the faceplates in her forehead knitting together. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she sighed, her fingers dragging down her face. At the questioning looks she received, she pointed to the bit of shattered glass at her feet, the metal frame of the lantern laying not too far away. “Rusty must have broken the lantern as he scuttled over here.”

Rusty’s only response was more steam unfurling from the vents on his face.

“Hey—hey, it's all right. I can always go get another lantern. The only thing is, we don't really know how badly Dot's been injured, or… how much time we have."

Her words spread tension in the air like butter, and she was acutely aware of it, but it was a steam-elephant in the room and she knew it couldn’t be completely dismissed. Whether Dot was severely injured or only scuffed, she couldn’t stay down there forever. They could bring her oxygen and water, but the cold would bear down on her, slowly seeping through her parts until her fire finally winked out.

“Anyway,” said Sherman, attempting to break her self-imposed tension, “Rusty, didn’t Miss McCrank have an oxygen tank with her?”

At the notion that he could finally do something to distract himself from the situation, Rusty nodded, reaching behind himself to pull the aforementioned object from his back… only for his hand to grasp nothing. “Dot asked me to hol’ it for her… must’ve fallen off ‘n all the ruckus.”

“Well go find it; she’ll need it eventually.” The professor sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I’ll go to the warehouse, get another lantern.”

“And some fresh air,” Lola added with a smirk. At Sherman’s arched faceplates, she said, “Don’t think I haven’t seen how stressed ya look. Go on, you need it.”

The professor shook her head as she gathered the remains of the lantern, shuffling off to get another one. Rusty got up with a grunt, wiping the dust off his knees when he heard a gritty noise coming from the opening beside him. He peeped in to find Dot wriggling like a worm on concrete, her hands clawing at the dirt as she struggled. Her face was desperate, hopeless, and he could almost hear her saying, "don't go, please don't leave me." He shuddered and turned away wrapping himself with his skinny arms as tightly as he could manage.

Lola had managed to sneak a peak while Rusty’s bright eyes peered into the fission again – and while she didn’t have enough time to study Dot in detail, she clearly saw the fear in the young ‘bot’s face, her disinclination about being separated from her friend—again.

With a sigh she edged over to the crevice, her feet dangling over it precariously, but she didn’t care. As long as she could ensure poor Dorothy that she wasn’t alone.

"Rusty'll be right back, Doll, I promise. I'll stay here in the meantime." Much to her relief, that statement seemed to get to Dot, who ceased squirming and started coughing from the dirt that she had loosened with her movement. Lola silently mouthed “go” to Rusty, exchanged nods with him, and watched as he left, his eyes flitting about in search of his friend’s lost item.

Then it was just her and Dorothy. The silence and Dot’s slow, shallow breathing. The despair in the young steambot's one visible optic, the way her pupil shivered—Lola began to wonder if her presence truly was enough to keep her grounded.

Minutes passed, and becoming stiff, Lola shifted herself slightly—yet sufficient enough for a small rock, no bigger than her fist, to break itself away from her mount and make an impact with Dot's head.

To her horror, Dorothy started screaming.

* * *

Fen’s first day on patrol came and went without anything memorable.

They were a fast learner. They quickly mastered their built-in lightning coil and could easily distinguish between intruder and Vectron.

Since Fen wasn’t connected to Vectron’s network, they didn’t know where to go, or where things were. Instead, they often had to be verbally told by another robot where a specified location was, or an android would usher them around. Over the few months, Fen would commit directions and locations to memory… something that differentiated them from the other patrolling robots, who only detected signals emitted by certain checkpoints so they could tell where they were going. Unlike Fen, they would be helpless without those signals to guide them.

Another thing that set them apart was their distinct personality… or the fact that they were the only one among Vectron that seemed to possess one. Every other robot and creature in the troops lacked tangible, singular identities and emotions.

Or so they thought.

On their daily patrol, they would sense this pinging—like someone was trying to establish a connection with them. At first, it was terribly weak, so they brushed it off. Besides, their given protocol advised against accepting signals from an unverified source.

But with every passing day the pinging persisted, and if Fen didn’t know any better they could say they almost sensed the pinging getting louder, more desperate—and at one point they couldn’t dismiss it without an ache frazzling their systems. But it was an odd type of ache… they almost felt… guilty? But why would they feel guilty about ignoring a signal coming from something they didn’t know?

They tried their best to disregard it… but one day, Fen knew they couldn’t anymore. They didn’t know how they bore the understanding, but the volume, the rhythm at which the pings were being sent clearly spelled out a cry for help.

They knew trying to investigate would result in punishment – what it was, they didn’t know, but they weren’t prepared to find out – so they would have to go about the situation carefully.

As they passed through the halls toward the less populated area of the building, they felt the familiar pang of the signal, thirsty for attention—and this time, they accepted it, praying that the sender meant no ill harm.

“Oh thank the makers; I’d thought you’d never pick it up!”

Fen made no outward attempts to show it, but they were surprised at the excited voice that was now speaking to them. “Who are you?” they sent back, almost flinching at the giddy reply.

“That’s not important right now. Oh, and only you can hear this, so you don’t need to worry about anyone eavesdropping on us or anything. Listen, I need your help.”

Something about the way they said that brought up something from the deepest part of Fen’s mind… but they ignored it for now, it wasn’t as important as this. They slowed their pace a bit, channeling power to their lightning coil just to add an extra layer of security. If there was something dangerous, they wanted to be prepared. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been stuck in this storage room for ages; my body’s long since become immovable and rusty. I’d do anything to be able to escape, to see the outside world again… I’ve heard the hivemind’s made its way to space. Is that really true?”

“Yes,” replied Fen, but they weren’t sure why the stranger would be so concerned about it.

“Oh, that’s awesome! I’d love to see the stars and the moon up close… Oh, I’m getting off topic here, aren’t I? Anyway, I’m stuck in storage room 2-B. Do you know which one that is?”

“That’s the one with the big blue manual door. In fact, I’m passing it right now.” Fen offered said door a passing glance before resuming their stroll. “I would open it right now, but it is within optical range of a security camera. I do not want to get caught.”

“I know you don’t. You’d end up right in here with me, and we don’t want that, now don’t we?”

Fen couldn’t prevent a surge of fear from being sent through the connection. _Scrap_ , the stranger thought, _I’ve said so much so fast. Poor thing doesn’t remember encountering sentience before; don’t want to give them a bad… second first impression. Wow. Never thought that sentence was even logically possible._

“Ah! It’s okay, you’re not going to end up in here, I promise,” the stranger assured, wanting to remedy their mistake. Fortunately, it seemed to work.

“Do you have a plan?” said Fen.

“Not yet, but I’m working on one as we speak...” a pause. “I have a map of the facility. There’s a maintenance panel in sector FT – one that you pass through in your patrol – I believe it contains wires that are essential to the operation of that security camera. The panel itself isn’t under any strict observation, so if you can get to it without being caught, you’re golden.”

“Golden…? I am not made of gold; I am constructed majorly of titanium alloy, type Ti 10-2-3. It is a near-beta—“

“It’s just an expression!” the stranger interrupted before Fen got too carried away. “What I mean to say is, if you can open the panel without anyone noticing, you can cut the power to the camera. Think you can do that?”

“I am not a maintenance-assigned android; I do not have the knowledge required for the intended procedure.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be connected to you by then; I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Okay,” agreed Fen, questions swarming their head like dozens of angry hornets. They wanted to know so much, yet they knew they couldn’t… perhaps, they could ask one? The connection was starting to fizzle out from them getting out of range, but they had time for one small question…

“Excuse me, Sir—”

“Miss,” the stranger corrected.

“I am sorry, Miss… How do you know about me?”

There was some hesitance from the stranger before she spoke. “That’s a question that will be answered in due time. For now, know that I am like you in numerous ways.”

For once, the way she spoke wasn’t giddy or irritating to hear. Rather, it was soft, comforting, almost like the voice of… a friend? What is a friend? How do they have that word in their vocabulary?

Fen lost connection with the stranger, but not without sending her words that they suddenly remembered being told some time ago… maybe by someone they once called ‘friend’.

“I’ll come back for you.”

From the depths of their mind, another name emerged… Dot. Who is Dot? Is Dot their friend?

...Fen missed Dot.

* * *

In a dark drafty storage room, a digitized sigh emitted from the speaker of a broken, yet still functioning robot. She quietly stared at the big bold words dancing across her vision – “connection lost” – as she ruminated over the conversation she just had with Unit 798.

She could tell that they were already fading; the signs did not lie: for one, their voice had become more and more robotic over the time they’ve been there, and they had grown accustomed to working with Vectron, losing their initially rebellious drive. They just… had seemed to accept their fate, not realizing that they have a chance of actually _living_ instead of living out their infinite life doing the same thing _over and over_ again.

That is if they even last that long.

She dismissed the error message, switching her photoreceptors back on. Her vision was limited by years of dust and grime that accumulated on her eyes, an unfortunate result of not getting cleaned for a long time. Despite this, she switched on a small light bulb in her chest, the fluorescent bulb making a tinny whine as it weakly flickered on. The light bounced off shards of reflective metals she had cunningly placed around the room when she could still move her arms and legs – a luxury she sorely missed – to create the final product: speckles of white dotted the ceiling; her attempt to mimic the stars freckling the night sky. Over the years she had managed to illegally download pictures of space, in all of its dazzling glory, but deep down, she knew she would never be able to imitate the beauty of the star-filled galaxies spread throughout the universe.

Unit 798 was her only chance at escaping this dark, horrible place. If they were successful, she could finally go home, live out her dream of inventing things that could wage war against Vectron, and use them to earn revenge…

“I hope I’m not too late,” she said to nobody in particular, before switching off the bulb, setting her timer for twenty hours from now – leaving enough time for her to prepare a connection again – before letting her sleep mode initiate.

* * *

As Sherman walked up to the storage warehouse erected to hold materials as the town was rebuilt, she quickly took notice of a few steambots who had decided to stick around, leaning against the wooden wall. Some of them had fallen asleep—a reminder of just how long Dorothy had been stuck, and that Sherman _still_ hadn’t found a way to get her out.

Mumbling to herself, she half stormed, half wobbled inside, her slamming the door awakening a steambot slumbering among the materials. He tumbled down the messy stack of supplies, managing to dislodge a bale of hay in his fall, finally slamming into the wall awaiting him at the end. Dizzily standing up, he staggered over to the professor, almost crashing into her as well.

“Oh, Professor,” the teen slurred, not totally awake yet. He scratched his head, mustering a fake smile. “Sorry you had to see that.” If Steambots could blush, his face would be as red as an apple.

“I don’t have time to talk today, Jacques,” said Sherman, brushing past the teen, “There’s a ‘bot stuck between two asteroids out there, and we don’t have enough light to see between the cracks; to look for a way to get her out.” She fished through a pile of metal tools and knickknacks, sighing. “Do you have any lanterns around here?”

“Yeah, I got some for the back, but uh… here’s the thing—”

"I told you, Jacques, I don't have time for this today; just get to the point!"

“Sheesh, don’t get your pipes in a twist! We’re out of diesel at the moment, so we can’t light any lanterns.”

Sherman fought the urge to slam her head into the thing closest to her, which happened to be poor Jacques’s face. “Of course.”

“The minerbots should be back in half an hour or so with a load, so things aren’t completely hopeless.”

Something within Sherman snapped, filling her optics with a vehement fury.

“Hopeless?! There’s a bot out there that’s stuck between two coggarn rocks, painfully suffocating,” she sneered, pointing out the door. “Everyone’s scared to death, wanting to help but are looking to me, who’s supposed to be one of the smartest ‘bots in town, for ideas, and there’s not a damn thing I can come up with!”

It wasn’t until Jacques backed into the wall did Sherman realize that she was invading on the poor teen’s personal space, his head sinking down so that his shoulders were grazing his “ears”.

“I...” she stuttered, fighting to hold back a sob. “There-there’s a dying ‘bot in my hands, I still haven’t done anything, I feel so useless!” As she finished, she took her anger out on an empty can laying nearby, kicking the tin into the middle of the warehouse. As it rolled and clattered across the dirt, her rage dissipated, leaving her feeling tired, miserable, and on the verge of tears.

She turned around, avoiding Jacques’s baffled gaze, and massaged her temples, trying to quell the brewing tears. She couldn’t, however, dismiss her trembling shoulders and the fact that her throat felt like it was on fire.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to punch something, anything to distract her from the fact that she was solely responsible for the pain Dorothy was experiencing right now.

“Why, that’s an awful lot of racket.”

The two bots whipped their heads around at the voice, a tall, gangly figure emerging from the unlit corners of the warehouse. They took slow, methodical steps towards Sherman in particular, a lanky arm arching outwards, hand brushing a long “mustache” that jutted from their upper lip. Their other hand found its way to their hip, as they fitted Sherman with a sharp look, reinstated by their foggy glasses.

“Dandy?” said Sherman, her arms falling to her sides and her hands squeezing into tight fists. Her posture almost made it look like she was sizing him up, and while that wasn’t her intention, she wasn’t in the mood for whatever Dandy had to ramble on about at the moment. He was a very sophisticated Steambot, obsessed with the finest things: a perfectionist who would never settle for anything less. He wasn't a bad ‘bot or anything; he just tended to talk negatively about the things and people around him a tad too much and ended up annoying whomever he was talking to.

Dandy ignored her threatening glare, though he was perfectly aware of what emotions might be rushing through her body right now. "Professor. Are you all right?"

“Does it look like I am _all right_?” Sherman answered, crossing her arms.

Dandy remained calm. “No, it does not, and I suppose your attitude is also evidence of that.”

“My attitude?! What am I, a teenager? What the scrap do you want, Dandy?”

“There is no reason for you to speak like that. I only wish to help.”

Sherman opened her mouth to fire back at him, but managed to process his words as she did, and she finally realized she may have been a bit harsh with him—and Jacques, too. “I-I’m sorry,” she said to both of them, her body shivering with the threat of tears again.

“I understand,” Dandy said. “Stressful times are abound, I heard. There is no way to prevent them, but we can certainly work through them.” To Sherman’s surprise, he walked right up to her and reached down to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Unlike the very fire that keeps us alive, hope is one thing that can never be snuffed out.”

Looking up from the ground, Sherman’s brows creased. “It can’t…?”

“We all hope for something, constantly. We may not realize it at the time, but we do. Tell me: why did you come here?”

Sherman would’ve thought that since he overheard the conversation he should have known why she came here, but she felt too tuckered out to argue with him. “I came to get another lantern,” she said.

Dandy shook his head, his mustache batting Sherman's face, much to her chagrin. "No. Tell me what you really came for." When she looked at him cluelessly, he sighed. "All right, tell me what you _wanted_ as you came in here.”

“I wanted to get a lantern,” she started slowly, “And… a distraction, I guess. I didn’t want to think about what was happening out there. I wasn’t really sure if it would work or not, and well… It didn’t really.”

“That’s it. You wanted a distraction, but you didn’t know if you would earn it. So, you hoped that you would get one.”

“Pssh, and I failed,” Sherman pointed out.

“Not all hopes go for naught,” Dandy said. “What do you wish for right now?”

“I wish I could get poor Dorothy out from that crevice," Sherman answered, pacing around the room a bit. "I wish I had anything, a clue as to how to get her out." She stopped, realization hitting her face. "I… I hope I can get her out. Before it's too late." She tapped her foot impatiently as if she was annoyed by her own words. "No… I have to get her out… I'd never forgive myself if I didn't."

Surprising Sherman again, a small, witty smile made itself known on Dandy’s face. “Like Helen Keller once said, ‘Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.’”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sherman felt a smile creeping onto her face, a true feeling of hope blossoming within her.

“However, I am willing to take up the task if you are feeling too drained.” Dandy straightened up, his posture like a pencil.

“No way, I’m willing to try; I feel better now. Hey, maybe Miss Lola was right; maybe all I did need some air...” Sherman said, though the last part was to herself. At the revelation, she was reluctant to leave the oxygenated environment of the warehouse, but she had to try. For Dorothy’s sake. “In fact, I could use your help. You might be able to spot something that I haven’t.”

“I am glad to be of service,” Dandy said with a curt bow.

“I don’t know how much we’ll be able to do, considering the fact that we don’t have much light to work with. Eh, let’s go.” She clasped her hands together before bobbling over to the door, a renewed spring in her step, Dandy following close behind. “Oh, Jacques, come and tell us when the minerbots come back, please! We’re going to need that lantern.” And with that, the two bots had disappeared into the foyer, Sherman too eager to wait for an answer.

Jacques just stood there dumbstruck, wondering how it was possible for a ‘bot to have such drastic mood swings.

* * *

It didn’t take Rusty long to find Dot’s air tank; it had landed a few meters beyond the spot where Lola had stopped him from flying through the air. He bent down to pick it up, brushing the dust that had settled on the surface. He inspected it carefully for any damage it might have received in the chaos, seeing nothing but the small scratch here and there, much to his relief. If there were any holes the oxygen within would have been long gone by now, leaving an empty vacuum inside, which Dot definitely did not need.

Setting the tank on his back, he started to head back in the direction he came from but stopped abruptly at a sudden noise.

It took a minute for Rusty to register what it was, and he knew for sure he wasn’t mistaken—that was Dot screaming.

Immediately he was flooded with worry, assuming the worst had come true and at the same time not wanting to believe it. Was she dying? Scared? Even more injured than she might be? He was afraid to go and find out…

Shuddering, he looked down to the ground as he thought about what he should do, trying to block out Dot’s cries. His eyes eventually found his burnt foot… He almost forgot about it. As he stared at it he felt a determination bubble up inside him, forcing away his fearful thoughts. _Dot went through hell and back to save me, and darn it if I don’t do the same for her._

He started running as fast as his feet would carry him, using his Static Dash whenever he could for that extra burst of speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I talk about the story itself…  
> Shoutout to my buddy Sbuggbot who _drew fanart of the story! AHHH CHECK IT OUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH:_ <http://sbuggbot.tumblr.com/post/178744941743>
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> Fen was receiving an S.O.S signal, an example of which can be heard right here: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zsb7stKelq4> I headcanon that all Vectron ‘bots/sprites can understand Morse code, both visual and auditory. 
> 
> And hey, it's Dandy, in all his mustachioed glory! He always seemed like the type who would quote historical figures and writings. He was really difficult to write by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever written a character quite like him before.
> 
> To read this story on Fanfiction.net, click [here.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12993235/1/Connecting-Dots)

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on Tumblr if ya want: [sw-seibellissima.tumblr.com](http://sw-seibellissima.tumblr.com/)


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